Deadline
by NeonFaeries
Summary: Zombie!AU. The world is in ruins and most of humanity is in tatters. James and Sirius must find their way to safety at the other end of the country, meeting friends and enemies along the way. Co-written by Screaming Faeries and NeonDomino.
1. Radio Silence

**W.C:** 3,708

 _Co-Written by Liza (NeonDomino) and Sophie (Screaming Faeries)_

 **Chapter One: Radio Silence**

* * *

James let out a tired sigh as he rolled over on the makeshift bed that they had set up on the floor. His back was stiff and sore due the lumpy mattress they had dragged from the bedroom, but it was better than nothing. But that wasn't what had woken him up.

He turned his attention to the other side of the room, glaring at his best friend, hoping he would stop making noise. It was too early for this and James hadn't had nearly enough sleep.

"Will you give it a rest?" he grumbled, pulling the lumpy old pillow over his face. "You've been messing with that radio for _hours_ now. I can't listen to static anymore, it's numbing my brain." He paused, looking over at the light that streamed through the boarded up window. "If you don't pack it in, the Roaches are going to hear us, and everything we've set up here will be ruined."

Sirius glanced over at James before rolling his eyes and snorting. "Lighten up," he said, looking somewhat amused by James' complaining. "This isn't for nothing, Prongs. Whilst you were snoring away, I heard something! A voice. Someone was talking on the radio!" He watched James expectantly, sure that his friend would be just as excited by the idea as he was.

James didn't even flinch. "You're hungry and delirious, and desperate to hear your brother over that radio. There's no one out there. You were imagining things." He sat up and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Seriously, switch it off. I think we should go out and scavenge for some food while it's still early."

The smile faded from Sirius' face. "You know, you're pretty mean in the mornings," he complained, his jovial tone fading with each word. "If I were imagining things, perhaps it would have been Regulus' voice I heard. But it wasn't. It was someone else. I heard the end of something, I don't know what, and I only heard the man say 'goodnight'." Sirius folded his arms, shooting James a look that dared him to argue. "And as for food: we have those two tins of beans and wasn't there half a tin of sweetcorn somewhere? I'm sure there was some tea bags too… right?"

"You can't tell who's speaking over those crappy radio frequencies!" James yelled suddenly, launching his pillow at the back of Sirius's head. "And for your information, you _ate_ one of those cans of beans last night. To yourself," he added. "I finished the _quarter of a can_ of sweetcorn that you left over from the night before. And no, we haven't had any tea bags for three days." He was tired of Sirius' carefree attitude towards the crisis and was tired of being the adult. He just wanted Sirius to grow up and help him instead of allowing James to do everything. Plus, Sirius had used all the teabags and James was desperate for a cup of tea!

Sirius flinched at James' irate yelling. "Quiet down," he hissed. "Those things'll hear you and find us. I left one of the tins for you, it's not my fault you didn't want it." He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the radio. "Maybe just a quick trip out? We can't get much anyway because your bag is ripped. Maybe we could look for a new one or something to fix it?" he suggested, hoping that James' mood would lighten.

"We only need to go down to the mini-mart on the corner," James strategized. "There's been no sign of live ones around here while we've been here. Hopefully the place will still be intact with enough stuff to grab." He stood up, headed over to the desk and leaned over Sirius, pushing the wireless radio to the back of the desk. "We can leave it switched on," he added gently. "If anything comes through on that frequency you've been tuning into, it'll still be set when we get back."

Sirius let out a small sigh, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we should really get some food and stuff. Maybe take that bin-bag of crap and toss it out. It's starting to smell out the place, though that could just be you." He grinned cheekily at James, hoping it would get even the smallest smile in return. When James failed to look happy, Sirius turned his attention back to the radio, twisting the knob on it and turning the volume up a little more. "I'm ready when you are," he said, grabbing the empty rucksacks from next to the desk and standing up, stretching out his stiff legs.

James scowled and picked up his weapon of choice; a broom handle with one end sharpened to a point. He didn't understand why Sirius was able to laugh and smile and act so unaffected — they were in an absolute shit show of a situation. "Grab your weapon," he muttered as he put his hand on the door handle. "And make sure you watch where you're stepping when we go out. Most of the steps are loose, and I nearly broke my back trying to haul your weight back up to level ground." The shadow of a grin passed over his face, but quickly vanished.

Sirius realised that James wasn't going to lighten up and dropped his gaze with a small shrug. "Yeah," he muttered, glancing around. He quickly spotted his weapon peeking out from under the bin-bag and kicked the bag aside to get it. "Maybe we can get something a bit sturdier at some point too," he said, wrapping his fingers around the crowbar and straightening up. "Until then, can we just be quiet. I don't want to have to face any of the Roaches today. I just want to get the supplies and get back here."

James pulled the door open and stuck his head out of the apartment, taking a brief look on the corridor. They had spent a lot of time making sure that the windows on the stairwells were boarded up, and the main door was secure, but James still insisted on double checking, even though they were on the topmost floor. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he sprinted out onto the corridor, nodding for Sirius to follow, and they began to scuttle down the stairs to the main entryway. James was careful to avoid the wooden steps that looked less than safe. "Maybe we should grab a magic marker or something, and mark the steps that are risky," he muttered, more to himself than to Sirius, who was sloping behind him.

Sirius nodded, even though James couldn't see him, and grabbed the notebook and pen from his pocket. If they forgot the marker, no doubt James would blame him for that too, and things were strained enough between them already. James didn't seem to get that Sirius really was trying, he just wasn't the best when it came to things like the Roaches. As much as he tried to act tough in the past, he wouldn't even watch horror movies and now he was living in one. He paused for a moment to write on his list, not wanting to catch one of the dodgy stairs. He slipped it back in and carefully carried on.

James ducked behind the window of the main door. The road outside was relatively clear, with just a few dead ones lurking around the front of the mini-mart. "I think the best route would be to stick to the walls of the apartment block, where we have the cover of the shadows," he whispered to Sirius. "When we get over to the shop, I'll hold them off while you break down the door."

Sirius nodded. He knew James had thought this all through and though he had slight doubts with the Roaches lurking, he trusted James' judgement. Last time they had gone out, he had suggested finding a backdoor to a shop, but that had just led to additional Roaches. They found out that day that the dead ones prefered the dark alleys to the bright open streets. He adjusted the bags on his shoulder and tightened his grip on the crowbar, determined not to mess up any more than he had already. He was determined to do something right and maybe get James to be James again. He shifted closer to the wall and started heading slowly towards the mini-mart.

Everything moved smoothly as they approached the shop. Surprisingly, Sirius managed to remain pretty light-footed, much to James's delight. He was getting better at living up to his nickname, it seemed. As they reached the door of the mini-mart, which had three thick planks nailed across it, James nodded at Sirius. Everything seemed to be fine so far - if the shop was boarded up, it most certainly meant that the goods inside were untouched. He gestured a thumb to the boards, motioning for Sirius to start prying them off with his crowbar, and James stood firmly behind him, holding his broom handle aloft as three Roaches staggered towards them.

Sirius started with the middle board as quickly as possible, thrusting the crowbar in the small gap and pushing with all his might. There was a slight movement, but not enough that would really help. Sirius pushed the crowbar in deeper. He threw all his weight against it, satisfied as the plank creaked and came away from the others. He knew the other two would be more of a challenge. He glanced over his shoulder to check on James, before positioning the crowbar by the top plank and trying to get it down. After three attempts, the plank hadn't moved an inch.

Behind him, James was trying with all his might to hold off the three snarling, hungry creatures with the wooden stick. For the first time since sharpening the weapon, he was beginning to regret not opting for something a little more practical. The stick was good against one Roach, but with three or more coming at him from all angles, he was struggling. One tried to grab at his arm with an outstretched hand and long fingernails, and James managed to swipe it across the cheek with the sharpened end of his stick, dragging a dusty gash through it's greying skin. It didn't back away though, and as the other two snapped their blackened, broken teeth menacingly and lunged for his neck, he held the three of them back with the bar of the handle. "Sirius!" he cried out in a strangled voice, using all the strength in his skinny frame to keep them away from his neck. He was looking the creature right in the vacant eye, finding himself absently imagining himself transforming into a Roach when his throat was inevitably ripped out.

Sirius spun around at the shout, his eyes widening as he took in what was happening. Before, James had appeared to be holding his own but things had clearly changed quickly. Without even having to think about what he was doing, Sirius unwedged his crowbar from the planks and ran towards James, swinging the bar with all his force at the closest Roach. The creature had been so focused on James, it hadn't noticed Sirius running, or the crowbar coming full force towards its face. The blow sent it reeling back and Sirius quickly followed it, aware that a second Roach had turned its attention from James. He brought the crowbar down as hard as he could on the first one's head, surprised that the blow stopped it in its tracks. The body hit the floor with a thud, and Sirius shivered as it touched his boots. He started to shift back, but remembered the second dead one behind him. He turned just in time to see that it was inches away,, it's rotting hand reaching out to grab him. He hoped that James was okay to deal with the last one.

James breathlessly thanked Sirius, and used all his force to ram the sharpened end of the broom right through the left eye of the last dead one, which was groaning at his feet. It shuddered and gargled on the edge of his pole, before sliding down to the ground and laying in a crumpled heap on the floor. "Thanks for that, mate," he said, wiping his sweaty brow with his forearm. "They nearly had me."

Sirius nodded at the thanks, his eyes on the Roach. He had never actually managed to kill one before. For some reason, James seemed to think that Sirius was more of a liability than anything. He blamed James of course: if James had just allowed him some practice when there was only one Roach at a time, he wouldn't be stuck on door duty and he'd be able to actually help. He stepped back, almost tripping over the creature he had just taken down in his haste to move. Thankfully the Roach wasn't very bright, and didn't know to step over the body that had almost tripped Sirius. It fell straight to the ground.

Sirius didn't hesitate. He brought his crowbar up and smashed the foul creature in the back of it's skull before the Roach could make a grab for his leg. Killing these things wasn't as hard as James liked to make out. He turned to James, a grin on his lips as he tossed the crowbar between his hands. Something wet and sticky touched his fingers, causing him to panic and drop his weapon. He glanced down, wincing at the sight of Roach blood on his shiny weapon. "Gross," he muttered.

James sniggered and brushed past Sirius, advancing on the door. Luckily, Sirius had managed to loosen the planks considerably, and it was easy for them to rip the remaining wood away. "We should nail these back on if we don't get everything," he suggested. "That way it'll keep the Roaches out from tainting any other products we could use."

Sirius merely nodded, pushing the door open quietly and looking around. He didn't want to take any chances that a living person had locked themselves inside of the mini-mart and inevitably turned into a Roach, but from first glance it looked safe enough. He held the door so James could follow in, before closing it and twisting the lock in case anything saw them enter and tried to follow. A flimsy lock would only buy them a minute or two, but it was better than nothing. He pulled one of the rucksacks from his shoulder and passed it to James. "I'll take the broken one," he offered.

James shrugged and opened his rucksack, moving to one side of shop to scour the shelves. "Don't get anything that has to be cooked," he said quietly between the shelves. "Unless it can be cooked in hot water. Until we find out how to generate electricity again without drawing attention to ourselves, microwave rice is useless." He bypassed a shelf full of microwave containers and moved on to the cans. "Jackpot." He grinned, and scooped cans of hot dogs, beans and soup into his rucksack, before making his way back around to Sirius.

Sirius dropped his bag onto the counter. The rip appeared worse now and he knew anything he put into the bag would just fall out of the side. He looked around, hoping to chance upon something that could be put inside of the bag to block the tear until they replaced the bag. Nearby were stacks of newspapers and he grabbed a couple, shoving them into the bag and hoping that the two would be enough to allow him to fill the bag. He turned to the batteries behind the counter and began to throw the ones on his list in. They needed to keep things like the torches and radio working and batteries had been hard to come by. He wasn't prepared to lose what little power they had in their flat.

"What were you _doing_ back there?" James hissed as they made their way back over to the apartment block, careful to stick to the shadows as they had done before. "I saw you stuff about three newspapers in your bag. What are you expecting to read in issues of the _Observer_ from weeks ago?" Sirius didn't reply, but James continued his onslaught as they made their way up the flights of stairs to their apartment. "This is just like when we were back at Camp Safe-Haven. We had to get out of there as quick as possible, and instead of stocking up on bottled water and food, you went back for that fucking guitar!"

Sirius trudged up the stairs in front of James, not even bothering to defend himself anymore. He wanted to shout at James and shake his friend because this wasn't who James was. His friend would understand _why_ he chose the guitar and made sure to grab the radio. His friend would try and work out _why_ Sirius took the papers, instead of treating him like he was being stupid. Sirius understood that he hadn't picked things up as quickly as James and that he had messed up and been careless a few times, but he just needed James to see that he really was trying.

Once inside, he set the bag down on the floor next to the desk and glanced at the radio. It was still only feeding out static, but the day had been shit anyway, so he hadn't expected anything to go right. He was just so tired of it all. Without a word to James, he kicked off his shoes and dropped down onto the mattress, his back to his friend. He hoped James would be quiet and let him have some sleep and just shut up nagging him. It wasn't like he packed crap into the case. He managed to get things James didn't think of. Batteries, the markers James had mentioned, he'd grabbed a few packets of dry pasta and some hygiene products and even managed to snag a packet of much needed tea-bags. He even picked up some of James' favourite hair-gel as a peace offering, but James wasn't getting that now! After all, James went straight for the food and tended to forget they didn't _just_ need food and drink to make it through this crisis.

James sat down at the desk and set to unpacking the rucksacks while Sirius attempted to get some sleep. He dug through his own pack first, pushing the cans of food to the back of the desk, feeling extremely proud of his haul. He had managed to get his hands on a few large bottles of water, which tasted a hell of a lot better than the rain water they had been gathering in trays on the roof, and he stashed them under the desk, where he hoped they would remain dry. They had managed to find a battery-operated hot plate from a hardware store not long after leaving Camp Safe-Haven, which came in handy when they wanted to warm up any canned food. He slung his now-empty rucksack to the side and reached for Sirius's, rolling his eyes as he did so, dreading to think what he was going to find in his friend's bag.

He reached in and grabbed the hair gel first. Initially, he felt anger well up in stomach, and he wanted to yell at Sirius — but then he recognised the brand. It was the hair gel he always used, way before the crisis, when things were as simple as worrying about how his hair looked. Suddenly, James felt a little guilty for his grumpy mood. Even though James had done nothing but criticise him all day, Sirius still thought about picking up a little something extra for his friend.

As he pulled out batteries and the magic markers that he had forgotten about, he noticed the placement of the newspapers in the rucksack. He hadn't even _thought_ about using something to act as a barrier against the gaping hole in the side of the bag, he had just taken the intact bag and ran with it. The newspapers weren't just unnecessary bits of paper that were taking up space in the rucksack — they were acting as a commodity to prevent everything else that Sirius had packed in the bag from falling out. Finally James spotted the tea-bags Sirius had picked up. In his haste to get to the cans and drinks, he hadn't even considered picking any up himself.

James slumped back in the chair, feeling very guilty indeed. He wanted to turn around and wake up his friend and apologise for his actions. Maybe if he had a little bit more of a carefree attitude about the crisis, like Sirius did, he wouldn't be as stressed and intolerable. Though, someone had to take charge of the situation and make sure they were safe and fed, he reminded himself. When he turned to glance at Sirius, he noticed that his friend's breathing had slowed down, and he seemed to have finally fallen asleep. James didn't want to wake him — after all, Sirius had spent all the night before listening to the radio. _The radio_. Another thing that James had done nothing but shout at Sirius about, when it was obvious that Sirius was only trying to listen out for signs of any other survivors. _Probably Regulus,_ the little voice in his head added.

James looked at the cans of food in front of him, and decided to apologise to Sirius in the only way he could: by whipping up a meal that only a man in his early twenties could be proud of. Using the hot plate and a small pan, he cooked the hot dogs until they were warm enough to eat, and served them onto paper plates with a side of baked beans. Just as he was about to turn around and wake Sirius up to let him know there was food on the table, he realised that the apartment seemed strangely...quiet.

The radio was no longer feeding out static.


	2. Static

_Co-Written by Liza (NeonDomino) and Sophie (Screaming Faeries)_

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Static**

"We need to leave soon."

Regulus sat facing Minerva at the dining table, waiting for her to reply to his statement. He had been saying the same thing for weeks now, yet she had insisted that they were safest in the castle. There was food and the castle was secure against attacks.

But the food supply was slowly dwindling. It hadn't meant to last past July when students had left to go home, and there was no way of getting more food whilst being stuck in the castle. A few crops were growing out in the garden, but Regulus wanted to get out of there. He wanted to look for his brother and the rest of his family. He wanted to know how many more survivors there were. He was sick of spending his time in the castle.

Beneath the table, Barty took hold of Regulus's hand, and nodded at his old professor. "Regulus is right. We understand if you don't want to make the journey with us, but _we_ have to leave. We can't sit here like ducks any longer."

Minerva ground the palm of her hand into her eyes. "You're not old enough to leave by yourselves."

"I think we're past worrying about age restrictions," Regulus snapped. "The whole country has dissolved into madness. I need to find my brother, and I'm not going to do that sitting up here in _Scotland._ " He looked around the table at the others who sat there; Kingsley and Caradoc, the local policemen, Madam Rosmerta from the pub down in the village, and the remaining school staff, Madam Pomfrey, Professor Trelawney and Hagrid. "Don't the rest of you have family members to get to?"

Kingsley slowly nodded his head. "There isn't much food left in the castle. We would need to leave sooner or later. Isn't it better to do it now—we can bring what we have with us to tide us over until we find another safe location and a new supply of food."

"We have crops here," Minerva began.

"Those crops won't last forever. Winter is just around the corner," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

Minerva considered herself guardian to the two remaining students. They hadn't returned home from Hogwarts so they were still under her care and she had vowed to do whatever she could to keep them safe. She couldn't stop the other adults from leaving however and she knew the two Slytherins would insist on following.

"Not today," she finally said. She watched the hopeful expressions on their faces shift into disappointment and anger. "We're not leaving here without some sort of plan. We need to work out where we want to go, I'm not having us wandering around Scotland without a plan, and we need some way of keeping safe." She paused, and looked down at her hands. "Also, we need to decide what to do about...about the headmaster."

Hagrid placed a large hand on Minerva's arm, fresh tears springing into his eyes. "It's sad, Professor, but I don' think there's anything we can do for him now. Perhaps we should jus'...let him go."

Minerva shrugged the hand away and pursed her lips firmly. "I refuse to believe that there isn't some way we could cure him," she insisted weakly. She knew she would follow if Regulus and Barty left, but was reluctant to leave the headmaster.

"That's always a possibility, Minnie," Madam Pomfrey said. "But we couldn't take him with us. It'd be too dangerous. What if he got loose during our travels and attacked someone? What if he attacked one of us? We can't put the boys at risk like that."

Once again, Minerva rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I can't see him left here alone."

"You won't have to, dear," Professor Trelawney interjected suddenly. "I have nowhere else to go, no family to find out there. Hogwarts is my home, and I'd rather remain here. I'll stay and ensure that Professor Dumbledore remains safely locked up in his office, until you return with a cure."

"She's optimistic," Barty muttered, more to Regulus than to the rest of the table. Trelawney overheard him and shot him a glare, but said nothing else.

"Sybil…" Minerva replied, but she didn't know how to respond to that. If Professor Trelawney wanted to remain, it wasn't her place to argue. It was safer than leaving Dumbledore alone in the castle and for strangers to happen upon him and kill him.

Finding a cure was a new goal and it gave Minerva a reason to finally nod her head in agreement. "We need to leave enough for Sybil," she said. "I think it'll require a trip into town. There have been less of those creatures trying to get in the gates, which I hope means they've left the town. We'll make a plan to head there today and then do an inventory. Once we've done that, we'll make plans to leave."

Carodoc glanced towards the window. "We can't all go. Me, Kingsley and Hagrid perhaps?"

"What about us?" Regulus demanded. "The more that go, the more supplies we can collect!" His lips twisted into a smile. "Plus, if you don't let us go, we won't tell you about the tunnel that leads straight to town. The one my brother told me about."

"But there could be some of the infected—they could follow you back," Poppy insisted.

"Then we collapse the tunnel," Barty replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'd have served its purpose."

"One of us should remain here to stay guard to the castle," said Kingsley. "The tunnel would be the best way to travel there, as the dead would see us coming down the hill towards Hogsmeade. As Regulus and Barty know how to navigate the tunnels, one of them should come with us." He looked at Minerva pointedly. "I can assure you that whoever travels with us will be kept safe from harm."

"I'm not leaving you," Barty said to Regulus suddenly.

Regulus nodded stoically, looking back to Kingsley. "Barty and I stay together."

Kingsley didn't argue. "Then Barty, Regulus, you come with me, Hagrid and…"

Minerva stepped forward. "I won't allow the students to leave, at least now without me travelling with them."

Kingsley nodded. "Then it's settled."

"As your _senior partner,_ Kingsley," Caradoc started in a patronising voice, "I think you should remain here and guard the tunnel. _I_ will travel into Hogsmeade with the group."

Kingsley nodded, frowning slightly but choosing not to argue. Over the few weeks in the castle, Caradoc had made sure to remind everyone of him being the senior of the two police-officers. He had tried to be in charge of the castle itself, but Minerva had quickly nipped that in the bud.

"Perhaps I should guard the other end of the tunnel," he suggested instead, looking to Caradoc for support. "I'll know quickly if there's danger."

Caradoc considered it for a moment before nodding. "You can wait just inside of the tunnel. We'll work out a way to signal you," he replied. "We should go now before it starts to get dark."

"Wouldn't darkness help though?" Trelawney asked. "They won't see you that way."

"We won' see them either," Hagrid replied. "I've got some bits we can use fer weapons."

"Maybe we can cause a commotion on the hill down beforehand," Poppy suggested. "It'll draw the attention of anything lurking in town. They'll be coming up the hill and gathering by the gates. It'll mean less… things to deal with down there."

"Hagrid, you see what we have in the way of weapons. Also, if there's something that can cause a distraction—perhaps a flare of some sort? Fireworks too…"

"Sybil and I can set off fireworks when you're in the tunnel," Poppy decided.

Kingsley looked between the group. "We have a plan then. We'll set off a distraction before leaving, halfway up the hill. When we get back in, we'll lock and secure the gates before heading to the tunnel. Our group will go through, whilst Sybil and Poppy get the fireworks ready, letting them off every couple of minutes until our return, trying to draw as many of the zombies up the hill. Everyone happy with it?"

* * *

Caradoc insisted on leading the way and exiting the tunnel first, with Kingsley bringing up the rear. Minerva stuck close to Barty and Regulus, refusing to let the only remaining students out of her sight. Hagrid followed Minerva, trying his best to keep his large, lumbering frame quiet and undetectable.

It was easier said than done.

The flares had been set off before they had departed from the castle, allowing time for the creatures to get up the hill. As they had set off through the dark space, they had all carefully listened, hoping no creature had managed to find its way into the tunnel. They all wanted to avoid them as much as possible.

They emerged one by one. Caradoc leading the way still, looking around for any sign of movement as he slipped out of the basement door and up into Honeydukes.

The others waited for the all clear as Caradoc glanced out of a dirty window, his gaze on the slope that led up to Hogwarts.

They could hear various groans and snarls as the creatures staggered towards the hill. Distant bangs filled the air.

"Stick together as a group," Caradoc murmured, gesturing for the others to follow. Kingsley paused by the door to the basement, clutching his weapon. "Follow me," Caradoc added.

They moved towards the door, each treading lightly in case any creatures were about.

* * *

Kingsley waited in the entrance of the tunnel, fiddling with his radio. It had only played out static for weeks, but he was still hopeful that it might pick something up—plus he needed something to distract him from worrying about what could be going on out there.

He cursed Caradoc inwardly for making him stay behind and guard the tunnel. Although Caradoc was his superior, the older police officer was flighty and loud, and would probably slow the group down. But of course, he couldn't say anything to him. Even though their positions didn't really count for much anymore, Kingsley still respected Caradoc.

The static crackled, and Kingsley held it higher to his ear. _"Come in, Kingsley. Come in."_

It was Caradoc. Kingsley pressed the button that allowed him to speak. "Caradoc, you got your radio to work. Where are you all?" He checked his watch absently, nervous about how long the group had been away from the safety of the castle.

" _We got separated,"_ Caradoc replied, his voice low. _"I...I don't know what happened. A group of the dead came at us from inside one of shops. I ran one way; I thought the rest of them were following me, but when I turned around they were gone. I've managed to lead the zombies away from them, but they're still on me."_

"Just tell me where abouts you are," Kingsley said. "What can you see? Anything familiar? I'll try and help you navigate your way back to Honeydukes without arousing suspicion."

The wind blew noisily threw the radio as Caradoc spun around. _"I don't know,"_ he replied. Panic was evident in his tone. _"I just need to calm down. One minute."_ He took a few breaths. _"Oh, God. Kingsley...I can see them. They're coming at me!"_

"Caradoc!" Kingsley yelled into the radio. "I'm coming. Just run back towards the village. I'm coming!"

" _Don't leave your position!"_ Caradoc shouted back. There was a series of thudding as he ran heavily. _"As your_ senior partner _, I order you to stay where you are and wait for our comrades to retur—"_

"Caradoc?!" Kingsley held the radio closer to his ear, straining to listen. Caradoc's voice had broken off suddenly, the radio strangely silent.

Suddenly, a devastating scream ripped through the crackling radio, but Kingsley heard it all around him too—above Honeydukes, somewhere out in Hogsmeade.

Caradoc was gone.

The radio crackled to life once more, and Kingsley turned the volume up, waiting to hear something—was Caradoc still alive? He stared at it desperately, waiting for something, anything.

A voice started to speak, but it wasn't Caradoc.


End file.
